In the Clear
by hairnorhide
Summary: Written for a prompt at the Glee Angst Meme. After one terrible night Kurt would rather put behind him, he discovers that he's expecting. Then comes the fallout.


**WARNINGS:  
**Non-explicit non-con (non-consensual sex). Male/male.  
_Mpreg (male pregnancy) from the get-go. _

xxx

Doctor Simmons is a kind old man with thick, salt and pepper hair and the kind of cheap, polyester office chair that squeaks and groans as he leans into the backrest. He has looked the same as far back as Kurt can remember; all twinkling eyes and a warm voice that instantly puts people at ease. It isn't quite working this time, though.

"Kurt," he begins, glancing down at the file he holds with one hand. "I'll be honest with you, the results of your blood test do come as quite a shock - that being the reason I asked you to come in so urgently. In matters such as these, time is of the essence."

He pauses, looking up to see the sixteen year-old's startled expression, and grants him a sympathetic smile which does nothing to soothe Kurt's already fraying nerves. He finds himself wishing suddenly that he'd let his father accompany him to the surgery, instead of thinking he was adult enough to attend a simple appointment on his own.

"Don't panic," the doctor chuckles, leaning forward. "Nothing life threatening, son. But your symptoms do make much more sense now, as I'm sure you'll agree in a moment."

Symptoms, being that of constant nausea for nearly a month now, leaving him barely able to ingest anything more than a bowl of soup a day. Coupled with the dizzy spells he'd been experiencing for the past week, Kurt had finally bowed to Burt and Carole's demands that he see a physician. It certainly wasn't helping his anxiety, though.

"Please," Kurt clears his throat, disliking the panicked tone of his voice. "It's nothing serious, right? I know I've been low in iron lately - I haven't been keeping on top of my vitamin regiment as well as I should be, and - and that would explain the dizziness, I suppose. I'm usually so thorough, you know, but I've been a bit scattered, with my dad's condition and exams..."

He knows he's rambling, and stops himself short as he notices Doctor Simmons' amused expression. The man holds up a hand, shaking his head.

"I'll stop you before you worry yourself further. The reason I've asked you here this afternoon - and, please, take as much time as you need to absorb this information, as I'm sure it will be a bit of a surprise - is that, well..."

He pauses. Another quick look at Kurt's file, as though to reconfirm what he already knows.

"Kurt, son. According to the results of your blood test, you're seven weeks pregnant."

The rushing in his ears and the way his heart feels like it's about to burst out of his chest are the last things Kurt is aware of before his eyes roll back and he collapses face-first to the floor.

xxx

His dad knows, because Kurt doesn't keep secrets from his dad. Not anymore - no, he learned that lesson and thank god, it eventually stuck. Burt was there the night his baby boy came home and stumbled through the front door, pale and shaking and mumbling about _not wanting this to happen_, and _I'm sorry dad I'm sorry I'm sososorry._

It had taken over an hour of gentle coaxing and warm tea and threats of a hospital trip to get the story out: of how Kurt had been at a party; that one minute he was laughing at one of his classmate's lame jokes, and the next his arms were heavy and he couldn't walk and couldn't see past blurry shapes and bright lights. He'd cried snot and tears all over his Daddy's woollen jumper, too far gone to be embarrassed at choking out how he'd woken up in a strange bed with clouded memories and dried blood on the sheets beneath him.

Burt had held him tightly as Kurt sobbed and explained the way he'd fumbled his way through the house of somebody he'd barely met, sidestepping the few partygoers left, found his car and driven slowly (_so, so slowly, because his hands were shaking and the world was sliding in and out ever so slightly and he really didn't want to crash_) the entire fifteen-minute route home.

Afterwards - after Burt had tried his hardest to keep himself composed and assured his son that everything would be okay; after Kurt had been covered with an old blanket and sobbed himself to sleep with his head in his lap; after not enough words and too-long silences and a pale imitation of breakfast the next morning, Burt had driven them both to a sexual health clinic in the next town and held his hand and promised it would all be over soon, but he had to trust Daddy to make some kind of adult decision, just this once.

There had been an unspoken but very real agreement between father and son the moment Kurt had fallen onto the lounge that night. An agreement that spoke volumes of Kurt's very real desire _not _to file a police report, and that no amount of reasoning would change his mind. And Burt had to respect that; had to respect his son's need for the kind of privacy that would not be found in a small town precinct, and the more pressing need to not relive the night's events for anybody else's ears.

So he quelled his innate desire for justice, and put his baby boy's emotional wounds first. He let Kurt stay home from school for six days before broaching the topic of a counsellor. He closed the blinds and played the kind of movies that he knew would be mimed along with in the dim light. He dutifully stirred and sifted and good-naturedly grumbled under his breath as Kurt filled the house with food, a nervous habit he'd inherited from his mother. And on the day Kurt's test results came back from the pathology lab, he'd squashed down his own anxiety and opened the envelope himself, shoulders slumped in relief as he clapped his son on the shoulder and muttered that he could quit worrying about _this, _at least. They were in the clear.

Unfortunately, not one person had thought to check if Kurt had fallen pregnant - not one person had thought that Kurt, in fact, _could _fall pregnant, being that not one male in the history of the Hummel family had exhibited that particular gene.

Evidently, they were not in the clear this time.

xxx

Written for an anonymous prompt at the Glee Angst Meme over on Livejournal, which I have tweaked, admittedly, a fair amount._  
The original post can be found here;  
_ . ?thread=16352331&#t16352331


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